Chapter Eight: Two Gentleman

 Across Yorkshire and outside of Shrewsberry was another town smaller than the former. Known as ''Chesterfield,'' this latter town was especially renowned for the home of Margaret Weathers, known as ''Churchill Estates,'' along with a historic castle, Longwood Abbey, which was possessed by Oscar Longwood. For the last several years, however, Oscar did not see anyone except his fellow businessman and, on rare occasions, his son, Roger, who was a local priest. Cold and cruel, Oscar was untouchable, even among these businessmen, including his son, Henry, who was the heir of Longwood Abbey. 

Henry Longwood was as much a gentleman as any ever seen in Yorkshire. Five and twenty, he was said to be very different from his father, Oscar, as he and Roger had taken after Marianne, their mother. Whereas Oscar avoided the community and despised everyone, Henry was always compassionate to those less fortunate than himself. A politician, he never behaved as one. As he strolled one mile in the deep woods beside Longwood Abbey, he was met by one familiar horseman. 

''Henry, how good to see you.''

''Nathanial, I did not expect to see you here.''

Dismounting, Nathanial Greene remained Henry's closest political confident. Speaking in a low tone, he asked, ''How is your father?'' 

''Not well, I am afraid,'' Henry returned. ''He seems to become worse every day. Constantly, he isolates himself from everyone---not to read or paint, or enjoy a jolly horseback riding, but because his heart---well, is as cold as ice.''  (note on how Nathanial learned). 

''That is indeed a pity. I feel for you, my friend. I am truly sorry to hear that.''

''Oh, it's nothing new. Father has been declining for a long time.''

''You should have come to the party last night at Egbert Devonsham's home. I think everyone had a good time.''

''I am certain that they did.''

''Then why didn't you come?''

''Nathanial, I carry a heavy weight, the weight of knowing my father will unlikely be on this earth forever. He will never give me details of his medical condition, though I know his anger against all builds inside.'' 

''I see. That is indeed tragic.'' 

Henry Longwood paused while holding his horse switch. ''No, I have seldom time to enjoy this land,'' he returned. ''London is a very different world than Chesterfield. When I am in parliament, I am busy considering all the debates between us Tories and the Whigs. We are even smaller than Shrewsberry, your home.''

Nathanial smiled. ''Both of our towns are small, indeed,'' he replied. ''They are certainly not London. I miss the English countryside. The world of Parliament is far different.'' 

Mr. Greene smiled while feeling the sunlight. ''Yes, I would love to spend more time again here.'' 

''My father has been acting strange for a long time,'' Henry added. ''He drastically changed when my mother died, and it caused a great wedge between him and my younger brother.'' 

''Yes, I've never met your brother, though you did tell me that Roger was rejected by your father.''

''Tragically, yes. Father has not supported any of his ministry. Every day, I feel that my father is becoming worse. I try to reason with him, but I need more time between my journeys from here to Yorkshire. Sometimes, I wish to retire from my work as a politician. I know that he needs help. He will not listen to Roger. Perhaps he will tell me.'' 

''I wish that I had words of comfort to give you.''

''Prayer is of more avail than kind words. My father has destroyed his soul through hatred of his fellow man. Sin has never freed anyone, though it enslaves everyone who gives in to it. Please pray for my father.'' 

''Rest assured, I invoke God's aid for him every night.'' 

"Thank you, friend.'' 

''Oh,'' Nathanial added, switching the topic. ''I had to buy a new watch recently. Would you believe that my horse's hooves broke my other one?''

''Really?''

''Oh, yes, unfortunately. Thankfully, I found a shop in Oxford, as that town is where my sister resides. A middle-class gentleman named 'Thomas Barton' made this new one for me.''

Henry faced the silver watch that his friend displayed. ''Impressive,'' Henry complimted. ''I did not expect to see this.

''Yes, nice, is it not? It is as good as my last one.''

''I, too, could use a good watch in time. Thomas Barton? Is that the man's name? Of course, I never go to Oxford, but if he makes them as nice as this, I may just have to stop by his shop one day. I will have to make certain to buy one of his clocks.''

''They are quite cheap,'' Nathanial explained. ''I can't imagine any cheaper clocks in Oxford. My sister, who knows Mr. Barton's wife, says that Thomas does not like tithing. Thankfully, he understands others sharing that sentiment toward his sales.''

''I see.'' 

''Enjoy your stroll. I need to return to my wife and children.'' 

Nathanial lifted to his steed. Turning to Mr. Longwood, he was reminded of something else. ''Oh, and I failed to mention. Do you know a man named 'Geoffrey Gibs?' '' 

''No, should I?'' 

''He has become increasingly prominent to the people in Yorkshire. He is very powerful. Everyone seems either intimidated or in awe of him. I have been friendly with his person, though I have reservations about his character.''

''Oh?''

''It would be scandalous to report rumors without proof of what I have heard. However, if you should come across him, I suggest you remain leery.'' 

''Thank you. I appreciate the warnings about Mr. Gibbs. And as to Thomas Barton, I will prioritize visiting his clock shop.'' 

Nathanial Greene mounted his brown steed before riding into the distance. Standing by the stables, Henry, who was thinking of Geoffrey Gibs, then considered the Barton name, imagining it as insignificant to his future.